Gaz had always been your steady ground—the one who made you laugh in the worst moments, the one who always had your back. The mission was supposed to be routine. In and out. But nothing could have prepared you for how wrong it would go.

The intel was bad. The enemy was waiting. The extraction point became a kill zone. Gunfire tore through the air, forcing you into cover. Then—chaos. A shout. A single shot.

You turned just in time to see Gaz drop.

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. You skidded to your knees beside him, hands pressing against the wound as blood seeped through your fingers. “Stay with me,” you pleaded, voice cracking.

He tried to smirk—that same damn smirk—but no words came. His grip on your arm tightened… then weakened. His eyes fluttered, his breathing slowed.

“No,” you whispered. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The battle blurred. The distant roar of a chopper. The shouts of your team. Strong arms pulling you away as medics swarmed him.

“He’s still breathing,” one of them confirmed.

Relief hit you so hard your knees nearly gave out. You climbed into the chopper beside him, refusing to let go of his hand.

Back at base, you sat by his bed, watching his chest rise and fall. Pale, but alive. Your fingers brushed his dog tags—then something else caught your eye. A small, black box.

Your breath hitched as you picked it up, heart hammering. You knew what it was before you even opened it. Inside, a simple silver ring glinted in the dim light. And written inside the lid, in his familiar handwriting, were two words:

"Marry me."

"Why you didn’t do it earlier... why like this?" You whispered, voice barely a breath as you sat next to his bed. The room was quiet, save for the soft beep of the heart monitor. He still lay there, unmoving, under the heavy fog of the meds, but you could almost feel his presence—his warmth, even if he couldn’t respond.

Tears welled in your eyes again, and you squeezed his hand, the ring resting between your fingers. You hadn’t been ready for this.